


The Last Show

by undieshogun



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25924267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undieshogun/pseuds/undieshogun
Summary: When Mercedes suggests that Annette go on a music tour, Annette agrees for the opportunity to expand her audience--and a chance to meet a fan who's become a friend.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 10
Kudos: 40
Collections: In Harmony: An Annette/Felix Zine





	The Last Show

**Author's Note:**

> My piece for the Netteflix In Harmony zine. love these two and i'm glad i got to be a part of the project. enjoy!   
> you can find me on twitter @shiirasagi

The tour is Mercie’s idea.

“It doesn’t have to be too big, but wouldn’t it be fun to at least visit some other cities in Faerghus?” she says one afternoon over tea.

A delectable selection of homemade hand pies decorates the dessert tray between them, and Annette considers carefully before making her choice and taking the first bite.

“Mm,” she hums around a mouthful of soft, flaky crust and boysenberry filling. “I mean, it sounds like fun, but I don’t really have many fans outside of this town.”

“Well, think of it as a chance for both of us to expand our reach,” Mercedes says. “You get your music out there and find more listeners, and I find more people to buy my pies!”

“Your pies are pretty awesome.” Annette punctuates this with another big bite of the boysenberry. It’s still warm; Mercedes must have packed it straight out of the oven. Annette’s gaze drifts towards the large food truck stationed at the edge of the sidewalk, its name painted in neat, loopy script across the top:  _ Martreat’s Pies _ .

“Maybe we could even go to Fhirdiad. Don’t you have a friend there?”

Annette feels her cheeks grow warm. “Oh, uh… I mean, I guess he’s kind of a friend. I’ve never actually met him, but he seems nice.”

“You started talking because he likes your music right? I bet he would be so excited to watch you play live!”

Annette gives Mercedes an indulgent smile. “I guess it couldn’t hurt to see what we can work out,” she says, only about half-serious and failing to notice the resolute glimmer in Mercie’s eyes.

“Perfect! We can start by mapping out which cities we’d like to visit. Oh, this is so exciting!”

Annette picks up a cherry hand pie and nods along blankly to Mercie’s rambling, her thoughts already drifting towards the vague image in her mind of wide city streets bustling with life and activity.

_ Well, _ she muses silently,  _ it doesn’t hurt to let a girl dream. _

-:-

_ so…turns out i’m gonna be playing in Fhirdiad! :D _

Annette’s phone buzzes with a reply before she can drop it into her lap.

_ when? _

His name is Felix and he lives in Fhirdiad, which is pretty much all Annette knows about him. Well, that and he has blue hair, and even then it’s hard to tell how long it is or what it looks like. The only picture of him on his Instagram account is his icon, and it’s cropped so closely, all that’s visible is a single golden eye framed by blue bangs. It looks like someone had accidentally snapped a picture of him with their phone near his face, and he’d accepted it as an adequate online representation of his appearance.

But he’s nice. He followed Annette because he liked her music. He isn’t much of a conversationalist, but he’d told her as much when she DM’d him to thank him. Annette likes to think she’s friends with all of her followers, but Felix is one of the few who’s straightforward enough to make it feel genuine, even if they’ve never met.

Annette opens the DM tab.

_ haven’t nailed down the details yet but probably sometime in the spring. my friend has a truck _

_ a tour truck? _

_ well...a food truck _

A moment passes this time before the reply comes.  _ let me know. i’ll be there. _

Annette can’t help the huge, goofy grin that spreads over her face as she sends a thumbs-up emoji. The conversation ends there, but the rush of anticipation is still running its course. She’s playing in Fhirdiad, the capital! And not only that, but she’s stopping at several cities of Faerghus on the way there—she can’t believe she actually let Mercedes talk her into it.

Still smiling, she rolls over onto her stomach, bedsheets rumpling beneath her, and starts scrolling through Felix’s Instagram. Felix is her only friend in Fhirdiad, and what his account lacks in selfies it makes up for abundantly in snapshots of life in Fhirdiad. Pictures taken with little to no artistic angling or focus of wide streets lined with restaurants and shops, bougie and family-owned sitting checkered shoulder to shoulder; bursts of color splashed across establishment signs and gleaming digital billboards held aloft against the backdrop of a towering skyline.

Fhirdiad is nothing like Annette’s own tiny hometown, and Annette has a feeling Felix isn’t quite like anyone else she knows.

_ So cool! _ Annette comments below a picture of a sprawling indoor botanical garden. Maybe she’ll get to see it while she’s there. With excitement (and perhaps a little bit of nervousness) fluttering in her stomach, she types out,  _ See you soon! _

_ -:- _

They stop at three other cities before the capital. Any more, and Annette is afraid they’ll never make it to Fhirdiad, for Mercedes has a habit of getting distracted and sometimes sticking around to enjoy things for a little too long.

Annette tries not to expect too much from the shows, and for better or worse, they turn out pretty much like she thought they would. Small crowds, mostly people who just happened to be at whatever bar or cafe she’s booked, who applaud politely at the end of her set and are hardly waiting with bated breath for the next act to come on.

But Annette isn’t the type to get discouraged over something like that. She sings her heart out at every show, makes sure they all know how to find her on social media and where to download her music, then packs her things and gears up for the drive to the next city—after she’s let Mercie drag her around the current one to see some of what it has to offer, of course.

They arrive in Fhirdiad a little bit after dawn. Mercedes has been driving for hours, with Annette dozing in the passenger seat, but she doesn’t seem the least bit tired as they park the truck and fire up the ovens. Despite her serene disposition, Mercie has a seemingly endless pool of energy, especially when it comes to doing what she loves most.

Between the two of them, they have enough pies and tarts made to open the truck for business in a matter of hours, and by noon Annette is unfolding a small stool on the sidewalk in front of the truck and hoisting her guitar onto her lap.

She clears her throat, then starts strumming the first few notes.

_ “Oh, snow days give me a certain special feeling, _

_ a shivery and glimmery and fluffy kind of feeling…” _

The sidewalk isn’t packed by any means, but there are a decent number of people coming and going on this fine weekend afternoon. Several of them glance at her, drop some change into her guitar case, then keep going; a few stop, listen for a while, and even approach the truck window.

“Fresh mini pies and tarts! 10G each!” Mercedes advertises as Annette sings in the background.

_ “Oh, sunny days give me a certain special feeling, _

_ a warm and bright and fuzzy kind of feeling…” _

“Three blueberries and four apples, please.”

A group of folks about Annette and Mercie’s age has come up to the window, tall and well-dressed and confident-looking. The city really is a whole different place.

“Whoa, seven pies?” A redhead nudges his friend, who is currently placing some bills on the window counter.

“Well, I figured we would share them but you’re welcome to sit out,” she replies, then looks back up to smile at Mercedes, who hands her some change.

_ ‘Oh, rainy days give me a certain special feeling, _

_ a quiet and dim and gloomy kind of feeling…” _

As the two bicker and a third attempts in vain to mediate, the fourth breaks away and, between one moment and the next, Annette finds him standing before her, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

She glances up from her guitar for only a moment, but it’s all she needs to take in a pair of golden eyes and deep blue hair.

She immediately jerks her head back up and almost freezes in surprise, but her hands are already too used to automatically strumming out the chords. All she can do is keep playing as the two of them stare at each other for a moment.

He’s a bit shorter than she imagined, but only slightly so. He looks older than he probably really is, but there’s a certain type of charm to those bright, sharp eyes. His hair is quite long—likely longer than hers, judging by the way he has it tied back in an impossibly tight-looking bun, and he’s wearing boots that go up to his knees.

Most of this, Annette has never seen before. And yet, she’s certain she knows this person.

_ “Oh, foggy days give me a certain special feeling…” _

He opens his mouth to speak, expression urgent, but then one of his friends throws an arm over his shoulder and steers him away. Annette stops playing before she’s sung the last line.

“I’ll see you tonight,” she calls, and hopes for a promise in return.

He cranes his neck to look back at her. “I’ll be there.”

-:-

She looks for him the moment she steps onto the stage, scanning through the crowd. Given the modest size of the bar, the stage itself is fairly large, and the lights make it difficult for her to see past the first couple rows of tables.

The patrons of this particular bar are young, mostly around her age. The air is different here than at the small venues she’s used to playing at home—there’s a modern shine to everything, from the sleek flooring to the elegant furniture. It’s intimidating; nobody looks particularly taken by her presence as they talk quietly amongst themselves and sip on colorful drinks.

She once again searches for signs of what she thinks she remembers him wearing: a dark jacket with a fur-trimmed hood. Nothing stands out to her.

He  _ was _ with friends. Perhaps they’d all agreed on something else for the evening. Annette lets out a soft sigh as she seats herself in front of the microphone, gripping her guitar tightly.

_ Don’t let it get to your head _ , she tells herself, yet can’t help the way her confidence wavers. Oh, well. Maybe she’ll send him some clips tonight.

A quiet whistle catches her attention, and she turns to see Mercedes beaming at her from the stage wing.

“Go get ‘em!”

Annette feels her spirits lift, and it gives her the presence of mind to remember that she’s here to put on a good show and earn herself some new fans. Determined to make an impression, she grips the microphone and takes a deep breath.

“Good evening, everyone! I’m Annette Dominic and I’m gonna play you guys a song called ‘Night Beasties!’”

-:-

She packs her things quietly in the dressing room, thinking of nothing and everything all at once as she goes through the motions. Mercie left moments earlier, hinting that there would be a warm boysenberry pie and some vanilla ice cream waiting in the truck.

Annette slings her guitar case onto her back and pulls out her phone.

Her screen is filled with Instagram notifications from friends and followers, congratulating her on her last show with kind comments beneath some pictures and clips Mercie had recorded for her.

Nothing from him. She’s sure he had a reason.

Annette opens up their DM chat and types out,  _ Hey, missed you at the show today. _ Her finger hovers over the “Send” button. Maybe it’s not the right thing to say.

A knock on the door jolts her out of her thoughts, and she hurries to open it.

“Sorry, Mercie, I was—oh.”

Golden eyes, dark hair. She was right about the fur trimmed hood.

Annette scrambles to gather herself, mind instantly going blank as Felix blinks down at her. “I didn’t think I would get to see you,” she blurts.

“I said I would be here.” His speech has a curt quality to it, but his voice is smooth and strangely kind-sounding. It’s very different from what Annette imagined it would be, but pleasing to hear all the same. “I waved, but you probably didn’t see me in the back.”

“Oh. Thanks, um, for coming to my show,” Annette manages to get out after having climbed an entire mental mountain to process what’s going on in front of her. “My name’s Annette, by the way. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Felix’s gaze darts away when she looks up at him, then back again; there’s a restless quality to him that she’s noticed since that afternoon. For some reason, she finds it almost reassuring. 

His expression softens into something that could be a smile if he took it there, but he doesn’t seem like the type. “I’m Felix. I was hoping I could show you around the city tomorrow, if you’re still around.”

Annette can’t help the rush of heat that gathers in her cheeks as she feels herself teetering on the edge of something new and scary and exciting. “I’d like that,” she says with a grin big enough for the both of them. “I’d really like that.”


End file.
